A True Renegade
by Noraque
Summary: Commander Mercy Shepard, the corrupt, brutal former human Spectre, is a true renegade- heartless, brutal, xenophobic and utterly merciless. This is the story of a woman who has gone so far into the red that even her own comrades no longer know who she is.


The light in the ceiling flickered once unsteadily; as the sole source of light in the room, it was providing the only ability to see anything. The small bulb in the centre was old and used and its usefulness was quickly coming to an end. After a few moments, the light held steady again and gave some sense of illumination to the dark room.

The man in the centre of the light took a deep breath; in reality, he could see absolutely nothing that was more than five feet in front of him. The light had been deliberately positioned so he could see the absolute least around him and could be sure of virtually nothing. A common tactic for enhanced interrogation, he knew- deprivation of senses; one that was highly effective. He could feel beads of sweat form on his brow; whether from stress or the overhead light he couldn't be sure. Maybe both.

A footstep came from somewhere just behind him- a slow, deliberate one. He immediately felt his heartbeat increase significantly and perspiration immediately started to form all around his body. His eyes darted around him, trying to catch some glimpse of the other person in the room; all he could see were darkness and shadows. It was impossible to turn around; he was kneeling in a stressful position on the concrete floor with his hands cuffed firmly behind his head, rendering him incapable of changing position- another deliberate move to break down his resolve, one that was working quite well. That as well as the fact that he'd been stripped completely naked- for humiliation, he supposed.

He felt a hand place itself on his shoulder and he immediately tensed up. He tried to turn his head and catch a glimpse of the person who had placed it there. The hand instantly dug their fingers hard into his flesh, sending a wave of pain shooting through his nerves. He quickly turned back around, his increased breathing very noticeable in the small, cramped room.

A voice penetrated close to his ear; a human voice- female, icy and deliberate. "Now, now Stevie Boy, you know the rules; if the little terrorist pig wants to remain unharmed, the little terrorist pig will do what he's told."

A wave of ice water flowed through the man's veins. A terrorist. _She_ had called him a terrorist. She, who had no accountability- who was authorized to do absolutely _anything_ she wanted- had accused him of terrorism. He could feel the sweat begin to pour down his face and his lip began to tremble very noticeably.

The footsteps began again- slow and deliberate, around his right side. A moment later, a pair of black armoured legs came into view. The legs crouched down, revealing the rest of the body they were attached to; standard black N7 armour with a heavy pistol strapped to her side. Standard- there was nothing even remotely _standard_ about this woman; the so-called 'saviour' of the Citadel, the slayer of Saren Arterius, the woman who had allegedly exterminated a hostile race known as the Collectors, the woman who had forcibly put humanity on top of all the other races, and who had allowed humanity to establish a dictatorship-like grip over the alien species. The same woman who had turned her back on the Alliance and now proudly wore insignia of the xenophobic, extremist pro-human group Cerberus on the upper right breast on her armour.

No- there was nothing _standard_ about this woman.

She stared into her face; the cold-whiskey coloured eyes, the bright red hair that hung down to her shoulders, the no-nonsense look she now focused upon him. Under different circumstances, it probably would have been quite a nice face- pretty even without so much as a scar on it. But now, it seemed as though staring into her eyes would bore right through him into his soul. It was a look that sent shivers down his spine.

She spoke- lowly and calculatingly. "Do you know who I am?"

The man stammered out, "I… I- what is going on…"

Her hand immediately shot out and grabbed him by the throat. "Hey!" Her tone was by no means loud, but extremely dangerous. "You don't ask the fucking questions here- I do. And I expect you to answer them- otherwise I might not be as nice as I'm being right now. Do you understand?"

The man merely stared at her. She cranked up the pressure on his throat. "I _said_, 'do you understand'?"

The man gave a quick, fearful nod.

"Good." Releasing him roughly, she regarded him with a stone cold stare. "But all the same, let me give you a refresher course; I'm Commander Mercy Shepard, former Alliance Navy, former human Spectre, now high ranking officer in the pro-human group Cerberus. I've earned my reputation and position by doing horrible things to people- human and alien alike. I've broken and killed the most hardened of criminals, mercenaries and terrorists in a matter of moments, so you can imagine what I'm planning to do to a scrawny engineer like you."

The man swallowed hard.

"Let me give the heads up on what the situation is; there is strong evidence that you are helping a pro-alien group plot acts of sabotage and assassination against the human Council members on the Citadel. I don't need to tell you what the evidence is, so don't waste my time by asking. You are currently being held in a building which officially doesn't exist on a planet which is officially uncharted in a system beyond Citadel control. If you're smart you'll understand that I'm authorized to use _any_ means necessary to obtain information and complete my mission without having to worry about anyone riding my ass for anything I'm prepared to do here. You should know right now that I don't give a shit about your well-being and I'm free to cause you as much pain and discomfort as necessary to find out what I need. A pathetic little shit like you is barely worth my time, but since it's been determined that you hold vital information we need, you and I are going to have a little chat. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell me what I want to know without hesitation. Now," she pierced his soul with her cold gaze, "who did you sell instructions to create chemical weapons to?"

"Please," the man said, trembling. "This is a horrible mistake! I've done nothing!"

"Jesus Christ." The woman closed her eyes, hung her head and gave it a brief shake. "Okay." She looked up to stare at him again. "If that's the way you want to play it, fine- we'll play." She reached down to her belt and pulled out her heavy pistol. A new wave of sweat broke out all over his body and he trembled even harder. "Please…"

"You're married, aren't you Steve?" She murmured, staring at her pistol with utter fascination.

"H-Huh?"

"Your wife is very beautiful, isn't she?" The woman said in the same tone. "She's of Latin origin if I understand right. A beautiful Latina with gorgeous tits and an ass that you could melt chocolate on. When was the last time you fucked her, Stevie?"

"W-W-What?"

He got an elbow in the nose for that. "I'm asking the questions. When was the last time you fucked her?"

"I- about a week ago."

"She's really good in bed, eh Stevie? Got some moves in the sheets that make most men pass out within seconds. Did you enjoy it?"

"Y-yes."

"That's good- that's real good." She looked at her gun again. "I'm real glad for that. A woman like that must demand a lot of pleasure and stamina in bed." She turned her gaze back to him. "Now how do you suppose you'll be able to please her in bed," she suddenly pressed her gun right against his crotch, "if you're suddenly missing your dick and balls?"

A horrified expression came over his face. "You- you wouldn't!"

"I would and I will." Her face and her voice were both stone cold. "And I'll tell you right now that no woman, especially not a hot Latina like your wife, would ever _look_ at you again if you were suddenly missing your beloved package. And that's just the beginning. You're aiding and giving help to a terrorist group- that makes you a terrorist. You have any idea what they do to terrorists in prison? What do you think they'll do to a dick and ball-less terrorist in prison? How long do you think you'd last in there? My guess would be two weeks- tops."

She leaned in close to him and murmured into his ear. "And that's exactly what _will_ happen to you if you don't start cooperating with me. You continue to play games with me and I'll make sure you're locked in a cell with the most well-hung krogan in the galaxy. I'll give the order that no one is to respond to your screams- and they'll obey that order. You'll be locked away in an isolated part of the galaxy with no purpose in life except to be ravaged day in and day out for the rest of your pathetic little life."

"No…" He looked at her, his eyes filled with fear. "No, you wouldn't do that!"

She shrugged. "Have it your way then; your package is about to get lost in the mail." She clicked the hammer of her pistol and prepared to fire.

"Wait!" The man shouted terrified. "Wait! Alright! Look, all I did was give some basic chemical instructions to a turian and an asari. I had no idea they were planning to use it to make bombs and weapons!"

"And you expect me to believe that?" She said disgustingly. "Just a moment ago, you were swearing that you knew nothing about any of this, and now you're suddenly talking about bombs and weapons? Stop bullshitting me, you little son of a bitch, and tell me who these two aliens were."

"I don't know who they were. I just…"

In one fluid motion, the woman raised her pistol and fired; the round passed an inch away from the man's head. He gave a cry of both shock and horror, his heart temporarily stopping for about two seconds.

"What did I just tell you about bullshitting me? Are you intentionally trying to piss me off? Stop fucking around with me and tell me who these two aliens' names, or I swear to you, I will cause you so much pain you'll be _pleading_ to be locked in that cell getting ravaged every day by a krogan!"

"I… alright, their names are Rafek Loren and Kalya Zoria! But I thought their intentions were good! I didn't know they were terrorists!"

"Didn't know?" She looked at him disbelievingly. "You think they were seeking out the advice of an engineer on chemicals because they were trying to do something _peaceful_? Let me bring you up to speed, Stevie; humanity is under constant siege right now. The only way we can survive as a species is to keep weapons and technology out of the hands of the fucking aliens. If humanity wasn't controlling the council and keeping all the other races down, they'd band together and exterminate us. Shut your fucking mouth." She cut him off as he was beginning to speak. "Humans are the only species worth anything in this damn galaxy, and if we have to suppress every other race and use methods like torture, execution and assassination to survive, then I'll be the first to do all of them. Which brings us back to the matter at hand here. I want to know where these two terrorist friends of yours are- right now."

"I don't know where they are! I…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." She shook her head. "It's like pulling goddamn teeth with you. Alright- we'll continue this little game of yours. You live in Apartment 18B on southwest most section of the Citadel, isn't that right, Stevie?"

"What?"

"You and your wife both live in that apartment, don't you? Yes, you do. Right now, that Latin goddess you live with- Maria, I believe her name is- is busy working her tight little ass off in a running simulation. You wanna know how I know that? Good intel and technology. Wanna know what else I know? I know that right at this very moment, six confirmed gang members temporarily purchased from various galactic prisons by Cerberus are waiting outside her door on my order. When I give that order, they will storm that apartment, where they will find sexy little Maria- all alone and defenceless…"

The man's face turned from pale to grey. "You… no… you wouldn't do that!"

She smirked and stood up, beginning to circle him again. "You know, I have it on good authority that most of these guys haven't seen a woman for _months_. A sexy piece of ass like your wife- that's gonna be damn hard for them to pass up. And since you may not have any means to keep her satisfied in a short while, she may as well get as much as she can where she can get it. Of course," she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "it won't be nearly so pleasurable for her. They'll draw it out as long as they can- ravage her, make her scream and beg for mercy. Probably record it as well- upload it so they can watch their own work. Trust me when I say they would; these guys are really fucked up in the head. I can obtain a copy of that session- make you watch it over and over and over…" She came back around in front of him. "Or you can make it easy on both you and her and tell me where I can find your two terrorist pals."

"I swear to you, I don't know where they are!"

"Really? That's funny- because I know exactly where my friends are. And I know where they're going to be in five seconds. Or maybe I should say _who_ they're going to be in within five seconds." She raised a finger to her ear. "Jackson, our friend here has decided his little Latin goddess' ass isn't worth saving. Give the word to our recruited friends they have a nice piece of fresh meat waiting for them."

"_NO! STOP!_" The man tried to lunge forward; the woman immediately kicked him below the belt. Gasping for air, he looked up at her with a pained expression. "Alright, alright! The turian and asari and in the Tayseri Wards on the Citadel! That's all I know, I swear! Just leave my wife alone!"

She smirked. "See now? That wasn't so hard, was it? Tayseri Wards, huh? I'll just be calling that in. But let me tell you right now- if I find out you're lying to me, you'll be begging to trade places with your wife." She activated her link. "Jackson, hold off on that order for the moment; the little bastard's finally decided to squeal. Our two targets are said to be in the Tayseri Wards. Give word to C-Sec to go get them and contact me once you have an update."

There was a tense few moments, silent except for the man's heavy breathing. Then the woman listened to her link again for a few seconds. She gave a few curt instructions to whoever was on the other end of the line and then turned back to him. "Well Stevie," she said, "it looks like you care about your wife after all. Your two alien friends have been apprehended and all their bomb-making equipment has been seized. A lot of humans are going to live another day."

The man let out a sigh of relief.

"But you, I'm afraid," she lifted up her pistol, "won't be joining them in their unknown moment of triumph."

The smile melted from his face. "What are you talking about? I gave you the information you wanted, didn't I? That's gotta count for something! I demand my right to speak to a lawyer!"

The woman let out a curt laugh. "Lawyer?" She leaned in close. "Let me remind you of something- you are a fucking _terrorist_. Terrorists don't get lawyers. Terrorists don't have any rights. What they do have is a guaranteed encounter with oblivion."

The man started shaking harder than ever. "But… but… you can't do that! It's against the law!"

She gave another curt laugh. "Law? What law? In case you've forgotten, you little son of a bitch, officially this place doesn't exist. Which means, officially, _you_ do not exist. Which means, technically, I can do whatever the fuck I want. Now, if you mind not pissing on the floor out of fear before you die, I'd be very grateful."

"No! Wait! We can cut a deal! Don't do this, please!"

In one fluid motion, she aimed her pistol at his throat and fired. The man fell backwards onto the floor, blood flowing steadily from his mouth as he lay gasping for non-existent air.

The woman looked down on him coldly. "We already had a deal. If you had been honest with me from the start like I told you to be, your death would've been quick and painless. But since you decided to lie to me and piss me off, you instead get to bleed out on the concrete like a fucking pig." She turned on her heel and moved towards the exit. "Give the devil my regards."

The commander exited the Cerberus-rented building and activated her link again. "Jackson, get in touch with our hired muscle outside the subject's apartment. If he let anything slip about his decision to give the bomb-making supplies to the alien group, then it's possible that the wife will start making connections when he doesn't return home from the 'business trip' Cerberus claimed on his behalf that he was on. Tell them to make sure that _all_ possible means of information leaks are eliminated…"

She paused for a moment, then looked back at the building and said, "And tell C-Sec that the suspect committed suicide out of guilt."

Logging off, she looked up to see many Cerberus agents standing around, looking uncomfortable- as though they knew what had really gone on inside.

"What the fuck are you all looking at?" She demanded. "Get this place cleaned up!"

As she started to walk back to her ship, Miranda and Jacob stared after her, shaking their heads.

"Damn, I knew Shepard was ruthless," Jacob murmured, "but I never expected anything like _this_. What happened to her?"

Miranda frowned. "I'm all for protecting humanity's interests, but this is a bit much even for me. Shepard's not the woman we thought she was. I'm starting to wonder if she herself knows who she is."

But there, Miranda was wrong- their leader knew _exactly_ who she was.

Commander Mercy Shepard, whom many called the Biggest Bitch in the Galaxy. And she relished every moment of it.

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please review!**

**Damn, this is a REAL renegade Shepard. Even my main female renegade Shepard isn't nearly as brutal as **_**this**_**. And whatever would you think of Shepard becoming even more devoted to Cerberus and ruthless than Miranda?**


End file.
